You and Me, We're Inked Together
by princ3ssf33t
Summary: When your soulmate writes upon their skin it appears on yours as well. It should be easy to find your soulmate. In theory. A series of one-shots. Royai. Almei. Edwin.
1. you and me, we're inked together

Roy had never given much thought about the idea of soulmates. Everyone had one, that much he knew, but the idea never seemed to be a pressing urge to discover who out there was his other half. His mind was too occupied by other things to worry about, like his dreams and goals. He didn't have the time to be worried about who his soulmate was. There were people out there who needed his help, and he couldn't be distracted from that.

Besides, his soulmate didn't appear to take too much stock in having a soulmate either. By the time he was fourteen, he could count the number of times that his soulmate had written something on their skin on one hand. As opposed to the other kids his age who had lost count in their toddler years.

For a while he had thought that he wasn't in possession of a soulmate. It was rare, but occasionally it did happen. His Aunt Chris was one of them. She told him that it was handy in her line of work. Not that she ever told him what it was. Roy was left to figure that out on his own.

He was around the age of twelve when his soulmate's writing first appeared on his skin. His arm had been feeling tingly for a while, and when he looked down at his arm he saw handwriting that was most definitely not his own. It was curled in a way that his own chicken-scratch handwriting would never be able to replicate in a thousand years. And despite the fact it was business hours downstairs, Roy ran down to his Aunt in the bar to show her.

Roy hadn't cared what it said, nor what it actually meant for him in the long run. All he cared about was that he wasn't as much of an outsider among his peers now. Of course he would remain an outsider due to his foreign heritage, but now he had one less thing for his peers to throw in his face.

For a pre-teenage boy, that mattered more than having the actual soulmate.

After that, there were few moments where Roy would spend thinking about what his other half was doing. He was far too busy doing other things. Like schoolwork. And when he'd finished his schooling and moved on to become an apprentice, his attention similarly shifted to the alchemy that he was learning. And assisting his master's daughter around the house.

There had been something about the shy blonde ghost that would draw Roy's attention. He could never figure out if it was it the way she moved through the house near silently, or the fact she barely said more than a sentence any time his studying had taken a pause and he sought ways to procrastinate from going back to it. She would politely remind him about what he was there for, and Roy would be forced back to his learning. But somehow he would find his way back to her.

But life went on and he moved on from his alchemy master's home to the military academy. He trained physically and mentally, often ending the day too tired to think about anything other than landing in his cot and sleeping off the whole day. Only to wake up and do it all over again in the morning.

His days off consisted of him somehow finding himself in trouble and being punished for it.

Which was how he spent his most recent day off.

He'd gotten into a fight earlier in the week with some upperclassmen, who had been unfairly bullying one of his classmates who didn't have the fortune of having a soulmate, and had been forced to spend his Saturday morning reorganizing files and other paperwork in the hottest, driest building on the compound. By the time he was finished with his punishment, he was coated from head to toe in a fine layer of sweat. He got no relief after he was finished either. Roy had walked outside and was surrounded by temperatures that exceeded those inside, with a humidity level that was nearing sauna levels.

Roy desperately needed to shower.

Thankfully, with most of the other cadets off the premises enjoying themselves and decidedly _not_ sorting through years old files, the communal showers for the men were empty. A rare occurrence that Roy was determined not to let slip through his fingers.

He was enjoying the freedom of having a private shower when he noticed the tingling that indicated his soulmate was writing something on their skin begin on his back, between his shoulder blades. An odd place for someone to be drawing on. Roy wouldn't have been able to hold a pen in a way that he would be able to write anything back there. There was no way anyone could see. And even with a mirror, everything would be backwards.

Deciding that he would puzzle out what his soulmate was doing later, Roy returned to the soaping of his hair.

Roy was rinsing the suds off of himself when the tingling changed. It wasn't the pleasant little pokes and warmth that he had learned accompanied his soulmate's application of ink. No, this was a stinging. Like someone was forcing a needle through his skin. And it _burned_.

Startled, Roy jerked the shower's handle until cold water was falling from the head above and he turned his back too it. The cold water was a relief against his back. Temporary for sure, and it did nothing to help with the stinging and jabbing he was feeling on his back, but it was cool and good enough for the time being.

He stayed in the shower as long as he dared, which was only a few minutes more, water was a highly valuable commodity in the location where they were, and if his superiors had found out he wasted a half hours' worth of water, his punishment would be worse than what he had to do that morning.

He would rather avoid that.

After dressing, Roy made his way back to his bunk. His back was still searing with pain, but he was determined to not let anyone see. A trait he was told that he picked up from his father.

"Dammit," he cursed. Soulmate markings weren't supposed to _burn_. They were supposed to be something reassuring, something comforting. Something was wrong. Something was happening with his soulmate, and it wasn't pleasant.

But he could do nothing.

That was almost worse than having the pain on his back. The knowledge that this was his soulmate and he was left to do nothing. That he could do nothing. That he had never spared a thought about the person whose scribblings he received, and in return would receive his. Roy had never even thought of looking for them.

It was in that moment he decided that he was going to attempt to find them. There was no guarantee that he was going to though. People could spend their whole lives searching and never find their soulmates. But he was going to attempt it. That he promised himself.

The pain lasted for three days on and off. When it was finally over, Roy waited until lights-out before stealing away to the showers. It was the only building that had large enough mirrors to stand and be able to see all he needed to. The pain had spread from his upper back between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back and everywhere in between.

He needed to know what was there.

Navigating to the showers wasn't as difficult as Roy had expected it would be. Patrols were few and far between, and he only managed to trip over one garbage can. It made a terrible clatter and he sprinted the rest of the way to his destination, but he made it without being caught.

The lights were as dim as he could make it and he stripped himself of his shirt. Looking over his shoulder to see what was written on his back he was stunned.

"What the hell?"

He'd known from eavesdropping on other cadets' conversations within the past few days that when a soulmates mark burned, it meant that they were doing something more than just on the surface of the skin. They were doing something permanent, like a tattoo. And this was an impressive one. From the base of his neck to the small of his back, covered in the ghost of red ink.

It was an impressive piece, he had to admit. It was intricate and detailed, and altogether rather elegant. Something he had not thought a tattoo capable of. Roy wondered if it would fade as the other ink markings had done, or if this was permanently going to be on his back. It was during these musings when he noticed something.

A small salamander within one of the circles.

It was like his eyes were opened anew and he took another appraising look at the ink.

It was alchemy. The whole tattoo was alchemy. He was unable to decipher it at the moment, while he could read Latin and read backwards, he could not read Latin backwards. But he could decipher the circles. It wasn't a difficult thing. Especially with the salamander. On his back was the way to learn and master Flame alchemy.

This was what his master was researching.

The sight of what he knew to be his master's notes unnerved him. His soulmate had the notes he had desperately wanted to learn back when he was under Master Hawkeye's tutelage. But because they did, so did Roy. He would no longer have to go back and beg his master to complete what he had started teaching him. He could park himself in front of the mirror here and decode them all alone. He wouldn't have to return to that crumbling house, he wouldn't have to suffer under the disapproving stares that he received from his master whenever he failed to get something correct right away.

He wouldn't see Miss Riza again.

For some reason, that thought alone gave him room to pause. Why would that matter to him? She was the daughter of his master. They barely spoke to one another, even though they had shared the same leaky roof for months. There had been times when Roy had thought they really bonded while doing their chores, but she hadn't even come downstairs to say goodbye to him in person. He had seen her silhouette from her bedroom window as he turned the corner. It had hurt more than he would admit to himself.

But for whatever reason, Roy pulled his shirt back up and buttoned it. To learn of his Master's work this way was low and dirty. His aunt would box his ears, even if he was an adult. No. He would go back to his master's and ask again. After his graduation.

Then he would find out to whom his master had entrusted these secrets.

His soulmate.

* * *

 _"_ _She's in possession of my research."_

Those were the last words his master spoke to him before he died. Before he was buried in the ground next to his wife that had preceded him years earlier. Before he was gone to leave his daughter to fend for herself.

Roy wanted to hate him for that.

"Can I trust you, Roy? Can I trust you with my father's research?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant. Unlike how it had been before he left for the military academy, where she would treat him as he was an equal. A friend.

At least that's what he assumed he was when she chucked a dish towel in his face and scolded him into drying the dishes when he lived there.

Riza looked up to Roy's face. He hadn't been this tall before he left. It was strange, to have to look down at her. She was searching his face, attempting to determine if he was worthy. If his naïve dream was worth what her father had bestowed on her. Roy watched her face, it was more closed to the world than it had been. And despite not being in contact for a while, he found he could still get a reading on his oldest friend.

He was relieved.

Suddenly she turned away. Whatever she found in his face must have satisfied her curiosity.

"Let's go back. I can make dinner before I give you Father's notes." Her voice and tone became impersonal, detached. Roy didn't like it. But he listened.

There was minor haggling about who was to make the meal. Roy insisted on helping, whereas Riza maintained that he had done too much for her already and shouldn't have to make his own food as a guest. In the end they compromised, if Roy could find the food in the kitchen, he could help make his own dinner.

He found about half.

It was a quiet affair. Riza had changed from the dress she had been wearing in the morning to something a little more comfortable. Not by much, but she insisted that she was fine. Roy didn't see it. Her shoulders were still tense and she wouldn't make eye contact anymore. Her distress seemed to roll of her like waves.

As they finished their food and cleared the table, her demeanor had not improved. Unable to keep his mouth shut any longer, Roy asked what was bothering her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. This way." She ducked her head down and walked away down the hall.

Roy followed.

Riza lead him to a room he had never been in during his apprenticeship. It wasn't that great of a surprise, he'd kept mostly to his room, the kitchen and the library to study away his time. And given the opportunity now, Roy studied the unfamiliar space. There was a lounge against the wall and a desk. Bookshelves lined the other wall, but they were nearly devoid of the books that would normally line them. He could see that a thick layer of dust coated everything.

When he had finally turned his attention away from the room he was in, Riza had already unbuttoned her shirt and was in the process of taking it off. Roy didn't think.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell do you think you're doing?" He crossed the room in a few strides and pulled the black shirt back up over her shoulders.

Riza sighed. He may have grown taller than her and more muscular from the academy, but he was still the same awkward boy that had arrived at her door and stuttered over his words until her father had come down from his study and scolded him into speaking correctly.

"Kindly remove your hands from my shoulders if you wish to see my father's notes. I know what I'm doing." She paused and looked at him over her shoulder. "Please."

Roy swallowed and returned to the place where he had been before. What was Riza doing? How did stripping herself of her shirt relate to her sharing her father's notes with him? What would-?

He stopped. He attempted to swallow over the lump that had formed in his throat. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

But there it was.

Plain as day, from between her shoulders and down to the small of her back in red ink, was the same notes that he had found ghosted to his own all those months ago. And while his had faded to the point where he was able to once again enjoy going to a beach without having to wear a shirt, hers stood out vibrantly against her pale skin. And it would stay that way forever. A permanent reminder of her father's work.

Roy reached out. Millimeters before he actually touched the skin of the woman before him, his hand stopped. He stood behind her, not realizing that he had moved from his spot across the room.

"D-did he know?" His mouth felt dry, and his tongue lead.

Riza's head turned a little from where she had been staring at the wall. Not enough to look Roy in the face, but enough to know that he had her undivided attention. But she said nothing. A cold chill settled in Roy's stomach. _She_ didn't know. Quickly, Roy attempted to backtrack and retract his question before she could question him in return.

"What about your soulmate? Wouldn't your father be concerned about them gaining access to these secrets?"

Riza gave him a sad smile. "What soulmate?"

It hit him like one of the military's freight trains. She thought that she had no soulmate. He had never drawn on his skin while he was growing up. There had never been any need on his end to do so. There had always been his notebook that rested in his pocket if something needed to be jotted down. It was sitting in his pocket at that moment too.

Then the memory of the first thing she had ever wrote on her skin floated to the forefront of his brain. Another wash of shame drifted over him. He should have realized then what her words had meant, but he was too caught up in the fact that there would be one less thing to be used against him when he went to school the next day.

His face burned.

Ignoring any protest that escaped her lips, Roy wrapped his arms around Riza and clung to her tightly. The smallest of noises escaped from her mouth. Roy had probably just initiated her first hug in years. It was unfair.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I'm so, so sorry," he mumbled into her hair. What he was exactly apologizing for he couldn't say. Was he sorry for what her father had done when he tattooed the secrets of flame alchemy onto her back for the rest of her life? Was he sorry that he never gave her the reassurance when she needed it most? When she was alone, without her mother, and only her father who was far more interested in his own discoveries than his daughter? That he had left without a proper goodbye?

The answer had to have been all of it and none of it. And it was all true.

Somehow, Riza managed to turn herself around in his arms. Gingerly her arms wrapped around his body and she returned the hug. One hand drifted upwards and began to lightly pet the hair on his head. She couldn't tell what he was apologizing for this time; he always seemed to find fault in things that were unrelated to him. The motion resulted in a stuttering sound from Roy. Perhaps it was him attempting to hold in a sob.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay." She murmured.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Their embrace lasted until long after the sun had gone down. No more words were shared between the two. Studying the alchemy they had entered that room for was forgotten. It was simply the two of them, sharing in the grief brought upon them by the world and by themselves.

Slowly Roy pulled himself away from the young blonde girl and attempted to give a brave face. Riza's arms came to cross in front of her. But his eyes never left hers as he drew out a pen from his pocket. The notebook that had rested in the same pocket fell out as well, but it lay abandoned. Gingerly he held out his palm and watched as her eyes drifted down. Using his pen, he drew a small figure eight there.

It took a few moments, but Roy watched as her face changed from the confusion as she watched him press the ink onto his skin, to a startled look to her palm as the tingling started, before a quiet understanding spread across her features as the exact shape appeared upon her palm as well. Hesitantly she reached out with her other hand and ran her finger over the elliptical shape. After she had done that, she did the same to Roy's hand.

Her eyes shone when she looked back to his. Her emotions could not be contained behind the wall she had so sturdily built over years. They warred over who would take control. Her anger, her resentment, her relief, her hope, and her understanding. But there was more than that when Riza looked into Roy's eyes.

It was two halves finally seeing the other.

* * *

 **A/N: This was a fun universe to write in. I'd like to continue with this with other pairings in the series, so hopefully I'll be able to get those written and up soon enough.**


	2. across sands and skin we stand

He stared down at his arm. Perhaps the longer he stared at the strange markings, the more likely they would somehow start to make sense in his brain and show him just what he was supposed to be seeing. But he was approaching the hour mark, and they still meant nothing to him. Just a large amount of lines intersecting one another to make some of the oddest abstract drawings he's seen so far in his young life.

It had taken longer than he would like to admit for him to realize that it was more than just odd looking houses. It was another language. That had made him feel extremely stupid and whenever the thought crossed his brain for the next few days, his face would take on a shade of red that usually only coincided when brother was thinking about his own soulmate.

But once the embarrassment had settled down to a manageable level, Al set down to work on figuring out what the language was that would appear on his arm. Which was a lot more difficult than it first appeared to be.

There weren't many people in the Resembool area that knew many foreign languages, much less ones that were clearly from east of the desert.

So Al was pretty much on his own.

He could recruit Brother to help him figure out what it was, but that would be likely to backfire. Ever since they had learned about the ghost ink and what it meant, Ed had become skittish about the whole subject.

But Al was a resourceful little boy; he knew where to go when his normal sources weren't going to be of use to him. The town's small library being one of them.

Most of the books they received didn't even belong in the town in the first place. Well, the books that he and Ed were interested in. They had become the experts in persuading the old librarian to write some of her friends in other towns to send books of their interests to Resembool. Of course, the books that were sent to them weren't as in depth as the libraries that the State held, but they found the information they needed after much digging. Books on farming techniques and how to raise sheep didn't offer the Elric boys much.

But the book Al had requested had finally arrived, and Al had been squashing the excitement he was feeling for the better part of two days.

"Brother, I'm going into town. Is there anything that you would like me to pick up at the market for you?" Al yelled back into the house, holding onto the open door.

Ed didn't respond and Al was sure that he was obsessing over another part of the equation. Al wondered when his brother would take a break. Pick up a hobby that wasn't attempting to break the laws of alchemy to revive their dead mother back to life. Al wouldn't complain if Ed went back to drawing stupid mustaches on other peoples' faces, even his own. Just something to get his brother out from the study where he holed himself in.

Al sighed and closed the door behind him. Once Ed retreated into his studies, there was hardly anything short of a wrench to the head that could knock him out of it. Their father used to be the same way.

After his quick jog to the library, Al reemerged with a book clutched tightly to his chest. It was an older book, with yellowing pages and faded ink. Books related to other countries and cultures weren't common in the public libraries within Amestris. Al heard the State libraries had more of those types of books, but those were not necessarily open to the public, and certainly not to pre-pubescent orphan boys.

That was hardly their fault.

Al arrived back home and settled on the swing in the tree. He opened the book and started to flip through the pages to see if his hunch was right. Finding a page that looked promising, Al rolled up his shirt sleeve to look at the ghost ink. It was starting to fade away, meaning that his soulmate had already washed that area of skin. But it was still legible enough to determine what the characteristics were.

A few more pages turned and he had his answer. Now he knew what language his soulmate spoke. His soulmate spoke Xingese. He could communicate now. It would take some time to learn which characters he should use, but now he had that diving block to jump from.

"HEY AL! Where are you? Check this out!" Ed called. His head popped out from the study's window. "I think I found the solution! Get in here and I'll show you!"

"Coming Brother!" Al rolled his sleeve back down and closed the book. He would have to answer his soulmate's greeting later. If Brother had pulled himself away to search Al out, he must have found something important. Al hoped this was going to be near the end of his brother's search, this was beginning to become an unhealthy obsession. For the both of them.

* * *

Mei knew that she was not one of the favored children of the emperor. How could she be? It was widely known common knowledge that the Chang clan was one of the poorest in all of Xing. There had not been an emperor or an empress that had come from the Chang clan in nearly ten generations. The emperor had no time to waste for children that would ultimately amount to nothing when the struggle for the throne came into play again.

Understanding this at an early age growing up, Mei resolved that she was going to do better than all of the other Chang's before her. That she would be the one to break the chain. She would gain her Emperor Father's favor somehow and claim the throne for her own. Then she would be able to do something about the poverty amongst her clan and those like hers.

Mei swung her feet from her perch on the wall surrounding the compound where she lived.

It was a short wall. Meant as more of a symbolic fixture rather than one to keep people out or in. The offspring of the emperor lived there and was to be regarded with respect. It was in no way as impressive as some of the larger and richer clans in Xing; some of the others had palaces of their own. Mei had heard stories of them, but never seen them in person. Just like she had never seen the interior of the Imperial Palace, nor seen her father from anything closer than from across the courtyard when another Imperial child had been born.

She never complained though. What did she care if her illustrious father was distant? She had her mother by her side, as well and her cousins and her clansmen. There were even a few servants that would forget their place in the societal standings for a moment to comfort her when she needed it.

Mei glanced over at the small ink bottle and brush. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains and Mei was getting a little worried. Now was around the time when her soulmate would write to her.

He hadn't yet. He hadn't for the past few days.

She told herself he was fine. Just because he had missed a few days, didn't mean anything.

There were only a handful of facts that she knew for certain about her soulmate. The first being was that he _was_ a he. The second being that he didn't live in Xing; he couldn't speak her native tongue. He was Amestrian.

That had been a surprise for her when characters not her own had appeared. She had promptly searched down her tutor, appointed by the Imperial Palace, to ask about the words. When she was told that it belonged to the country from across the desert, Mei knew she needed to know more. She demanded that she be taught the language from across the desert in addition to her other studies.

And so she was.

She was a royal princess, and her needs and demands were to be met.

Her Amestrian was broken at best and his Xingese was atrocious. She had told him as such once in her halting Amestrian. To compromise, most of their communication was done through pictures. Simple pictures that crossed language and culture. It was almost another language, a secret one, that only the two of them shared. It was a mismatched form. His art would be intricate and lovely, whereas her was blocky and simplistic.

She dipped her brush into the inkwell and drew a single question mark on her arm, underneath her sleeve. It meant a large range of things. _How are you? I don't understand. Explain. What's does that mean?_

 _Are you okay?_

Mei stared down at her arm, waiting, willing for her soulmate to answer her back. She waited. The sun went down. Her mother called for her to come inside out of the night air. Mei let her sleeve fall down to cover the ink on her skin, and gathered her things. She knew long ago that when her mother asked for something, Mei answered right away.

Mei was the daughter of the emperor, but she was still that woman's child and could be punished if she got into trouble.

Her soulmate didn't answer that night either.

* * *

He had no body. He was a soul bonded to a suit of armor. He could feel no heat nor cold or the soft textures of animals or grass. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat.

Brother had lost his arm and leg. He'd been unconscious for at least a day and Al could do nothing. Absolutely nothing. He told Granny and Winry of what they did, and secluded himself in the house. It was his fault. It was his fault they failed.

And now he could feel nothing.

 _I'm sorry._

If he could have cried, he would have.

* * *

It was around four years later when the emperor's health began to fade and the battle for succession began in earnest. Mei saw her chance to change to worsening circumstances for her clan.

She heard a rumor of an object that could grant immortality. If she could obtain it, surely she would be in the favor of the emperor for the next in line.

That was what she decided to do.

When she declared her intentions to her mother and her tutor, Mei was unprepared for their response. There were no tears or protestations on Mei, a young twelve-year-old princess, crossing the vast desert in search of something that remained in myth and legend. Mei understood how dire things were in their clan, but she never expected that there would be no protesting when she told of her plan. Especially by the two people who had raised her.

Bowing respectfully, Mei hurried to gather the supplies she would need for her journey, Xiao-Mei scampering along at her heels.

She never learned of her mother crying to her tutor's shoulder.

* * *

It had been years since he thought of his soulmate. It was no fault of his own, well, perhaps maybe it was, but there had been other pressing matters that needed to be attended too. Such as regaining his brother's body for him.

It wasn't like he could really communicate with his soulmate anymore. He had no body. Writing with ink on the armor didn't have the same effect that writing upon his skin had. And he couldn't receive his soulmate's writings either.

He missed their conversations at night.

But if there was a small spot of light throughout this ordeal, was the time he'd gained. His nights, were spent researching for his brother about alchemy and possible ways that they could use to regain their bodies. And nights where he could no longer force himself to reread any of the various alchemical books they had, searching for something that he could have missed the first through fourth time reading it, he pulled out the book of Xingese language he had never returned and poured through it.

When he could speak with her again, he was going to give her a proper apology in her own native tongue.

* * *

The armored boy – _Alphonse_ – was strange. Not strange like his brother, strange in the way that intrigued Mei. He protected her from those underneath Central – the homunculi – after she had attacked them earlier on in the week. She was barely awake for him scooping her into his large arms, before he ran. She awoke inside the armor and was stunned to see that there was no other occupant there, besides Xiao-Mei.

Her first instinct upon waking surrounded by armor was to fight, but her injury and the placating whimpers of her beloved panda calmed that instinct. He – _Alphonse_ – had told her that he didn't want to see her hurt.

Her consciousness weaved in and out for a period of time. When she fought her way to consciousness and stayed there was when she felt it. A comforting warmth that sent tingles across her skin. Something that she had lost feeling long ago. It was the feeling that indicated her soulmate was writing to her. But it surrounded her, and there was no writing appearing on her skin.

Some of the other kids back home thought that her soulmate had died when he stopped answering her.

She moved her hand in front of her face, reveling in the feeling she hadn't felt in years. It drew her attention higher, towards the helmet. And she saw it. A small circle, not much larger than her hand. Mei knew little to nothing about this country's alchemy, but she recognized an alchemical circle when she saw one.

It was like it was calling her name. She was reaching towards it, when the armor – _Alphonse_ – stood, his meeting with Wrath over. Sliding down into his leg, Mei readied herself for him to walk.

She was not ready for the sword to pierce the armor centimeters from her head.

Nor was she ready for when the armor boy – _Alphonse_ – to spend a good ten minutes fretting over her once they arrived at the physician's house later in the evening.

* * *

He hated himself. It was not a new feeling, hating himself because of what he had done to another. But looking down at his body, his recently acquired body, he couldn't help but hate himself.

There on his arm, were the fading ghost ink of his soulmate. A single question mark. Some of it was more faded than other portions, meaning that she had been writing and rewriting the same thing over his whole arm.

It was a casual observation he made after being reunited with his body. The majority of his attention was focused on those he had left back outside of Truth's gate. The Colonel and the Lieutenant, recently blinded and leaning upon each other as if they couldn't stand on their own. The soldiers and the chimera fighting together. Brother, and the way that he screamed for Al to not do what needed to be done. Mei.

He had been so focused on what needed to be done that he didn't recognize just what he had put her through in that moment. The favor he called for her to do, from her perspective, killed him.

Hell of a favor.

But he had known that it was the right thing to do. Ed was about have his life, his soul, stolen from him, and now Al had given him a fighting chance. He had given him a way to win. And Al knew Ed. Ed would win. He was too stubborn to lose. All he had to do was wait.

* * *

Mei never left his side. She couldn't bear to. It was only when Ed called for everyone to step back that she moved away. Even then, one of the chimeras pulled her even farther away, behind other people, blocking her view of empty and broken armor.

Her tears never stopped falling. She listened to Alphonse. She had done what he asked. And she killed him. Enabled himself too.

It was the same thing really.

She couldn't turn when there was a loud commotion where Alphonse's body had been. In her state, she could only think that something had happened to the bean alchemist as well. Her tears began to flow faster, thinking that she had now had the two alchemist's blood on her hands.

When she heard it through the rubble and the bodies, she thought she was dreaming. Or hallucinating. Because it sounded like Alphonse's voice. A little raspier, and lower, but it was her Alphonse's voice.

It was like she turned in slow motion, unwilling to look, but unable to restrain herself from doing so.

A glimpse of long blonde hair that didn't belong to the bean alchemist was all it took to send her running. One of the soldiers, she wasn't sure who, attempted to grab her as she weaved her way through the crowd towards the Elrics, presumably to allow the boys some air after such an ordeal.

Mei careened into Alphonse and clutched his shoulders, and she clung to him and cried. She couldn't help but apologize into his chest. He brushed off her apology, claiming that it unfair of him to ask that of her. She shook her head and burrowed it deeper into his chest.

She almost couldn't believe it. Alphonse was back. He was there in the flesh, in his body, and he didn't hate for what she had done. He had apologized for putting her through such trauma. She sniffled as she drew back to look him in the face. Her expression grew fierce. It was somewhat mottled by the tears rolling down her face, but it made its point clear.

"Alphonse Elric, if you ever ask me to do that again, I'll – I'll –"

Her treat remained uncompleted, simply because she wasn't of the mind to put forth the effort to create one. It had been a long and trying day.

Al gave a little laugh and promised that he wouldn't do such a thing.

"Cross my heart," He said, lifting his arm to perform the action.

Mei froze. Seeing her freeze froze Al as well.

"Mei? What's wrong?'

Mei reached out and grabbed his arm. She bent the arm down and stared intently at it. One of her hands reached out and she poked the question mark that had been ghosted to his arm.

"Where did you get that?" She demanded, even though her voice was small.

"My soulmate." His other hand went up to scratch the back of his head. "She must have been worried about me. I haven't been in my body for nearly five years now, and the ghosting of ink doesn't work on vintage suits of armor," he gave a pained laugh, "I really should apologize for worrying her."

Mei's face scrunched up, like it did when she was about to cry again. Her hands dropped his arm and fisted themselves. She thought of when she woke up inside the armor all those months ago. She had an inkling then, but was too focused on her tasks to really stop to think about what it meant.

"Stupid, you don't need to apologize."

He blinked, unsure of what she meant by that. Then, as discreetly as she could possibly could, she lifted her sleeve to show the identical mark on her arm. Al blinked two slowly, before looking to Mei and his brother's face alternately. Ed had the same deer in the headlights look. The bean alchemist couldn't help but be spying over his brother's shoulder.

Mei resisted rolling her eyes. It was unbecoming of a princess, even if she was covered in blood and grime. She hadn't exactly wanted anyone but Al to see, but Ed would have figured it out soon enough.

She took a deep breath and stood up. She bowed to both brothers before walking away. There were many things that she needed to filter through her head, and the fact her Alphonse was her soulmate was only one of many. It wasn't even the biggest one.

The fact she had failed her clan in getting a philosophers claimed that position.

* * *

She was still reeling at the fact her half-brother had not only secured his position as the next in line for the throne, but had promised to take her clan, all of the clans under his wing and protect them all.

"It's too greedy," she'd told him.

Nevertheless, he had given his word, and Ling Yao never failed to back his word.

They were on their way back to Xing when she felt the warm tingle on her arm. For a moment she panicked, in its years of absence, Mei had forgotten how it felt when her soulmate wrote something.

Making sure that her two companions weren't looking at her, Mei lifted her sleeve to see and nearly started crying.

There, written in perfect Xingese, was a note from Alphonse.

 _Mei, I'm sorry for all I've put you through, But I promise we'll see each other again. Someone's going to have to teach me alkahestry. Alphonse._

He finished his note with a crude drawing of her face. Mei laughed out loud, ignoring the looks the two others shot back at her.

They would see each other again. That she could feel in her soul.

* * *

 **A/N: That took a little longer than I wanted to write it, but it's done, and I'm satisfied. It's styled a little differently that Roy and Riza's, but that's for obvious reasons. Also, I have no idea how, or even if, there were public libraries outside of the military, so I made it up. Please leave a review.**


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